


Combustive Cure

by 1010nabulation



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Body Worship, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, First Time, Hand Jobs, Healing Sex, Master/Servant, Praise Kink, Protectiveness, Scars, honor bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1010nabulation/pseuds/1010nabulation
Summary: Kija takes some arrows meant for Yona while they're far from Hiryuu Castle... but what can she do to help save his life?  Could a fanciful tale of the healing effects of King Hiryuu's embrace hold the answer?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoseWithAllHerThorns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseWithAllHerThorns/gifts).



> Happy Smut Swap! I hope you enjoy this gift! :)

“Princess, look out!” Kija yelled, but it was too late. An arrow was already flying toward her, and there was no way she could get out of the way in time. With barely enough time to react himself, he threw his body over hers and tumbled both of them to the ground, clutching Yona protectively in his dragon hand to cushion her fall. 

The arrow caught him in the shoulder, another he had not seen loosed struck him in the back below his ribs. The pain was sharp and sudden and all-encompassing, but Yona was unhurt. Blood dripped onto her, his blood. Yona stared up at him wide-eyed, and Kija forced a weak smile through the pain twisting his features.

He should have seen them coming—heard them—sensed them— _something_. But it was all right. Yona was all right. And from the sound of it, their companions were taking out the ambushers with ease.

When it was all over, Yoon very carefully and agonizingly slowly eased the arrows out of him while Jae-ha held his powerful dragon arm down with his own equally powerful dragon foot, Shin-ah took his other hand, and Hak held his legs down. He could hear Zeno assisting Yoon, giving him clean damp cloths when asked and clearing the blood away while Yoon worked. 

Through it all, Yona held Kija's head in her lap and stroked his hair, not shying away from the blood and agony at all. She was calm and so gentle, whispering to him that he was very brave. If Kija had been able to get any words out, he would have told her that _she_ was the brave one. But all he could do was shake and cry and grit his teeth against the pain.

 

He must have lost consciousness after that, because the next thing Kija was aware of was being in their tent, lying on his stomach... his head pillowed again on Yona's lap.

“...but we're so far from Hiryuu Castle, there's no way for his body to regenerate or fight off infection. I'm not sure it'll be enough.” Yoon sounded so scared and miserable.

“What if we take turns carrying him to the next town? We'll find a doctor and just not tell them we're from Kouka,” Hak said.

“Surely that will work, because we look so much like Kai natives,” Jae-ha said, worry beneath the gentle wryness of his tone.

Shin-ah spoke next. “The next town is far. Days away in either direction.”

“...I'm not sure he can take that much strain in this condition.” Yoon again, and he would know.

“Hakuryuu is strong, and the lad knows what he is doing,” Zeno chimed in, his voice gently reassuring. “This one will help gather medicinal herbs and will do whatever it takes to help Hakuryuu heal.”

“It's okay,” Kija said, so softly it was almost inaudible. He opened his eyes and saw everyone gathered around him, all looking so grim and so sad (and guilty that he'd heard them talking about him, he imagined). He tried to smile. “If I die. It's okay. It will have been... a great honor to serve Hiryuu with my life.”

“Nobody's dying!” Yona burst out. She sounded on the verge of tears, but there was the strength of command in her voice as well. “I won't let you.”

Her fingers fisted into Kija's hair where she had been carding them through it. Not pulling, but tense all the same. He tried lifting his human hand to hers and winced as bright pain flared up his arm from the wound in his shoulder... his dragon hand would have to do, then, roughly scaled as it was. He laid it gently over Yona's and her fingers loosened in his hair. Shakily, she took his claws in her delicate hand. “Please, Kija...”

Jae-ha was the one to pull himself out of the shock Yona's outburst caused first. He chuckled, then met Kija's eyes. “You heard Yona dear. To deny the princess' wish would be unlike you, Kija, so it looks like you'd better live.”

Kija nodded and closed his eyes, sapped of his strength already. “Of course.” The pain was great, but he would keep on fighting, for Yona. For his master. She needed him still, and he would not leave her yet.

 

Some time later, he woke to soft voices again. Just Zeno and Yona this time. The night was quiet save for that and some crickets chirping; the rest of the group must have gone to bed already in the other tent.

“I wish there was more I could do,” Yona was saying. “I keep thinking... there was something I read in the archives at Hiryuu Castle... something about King Hiryuu healing his dragons with—with the power of—of his love. Is that true, Zeno?”

She sounded flustered, and Kija had no idea why. If anyone could heal with love alone, it would be Hiryuu. Perhaps Yona was flustered because she did not know how to awake this power?

“Mmm, it's true,” Zeno said, sounding both amused and contemplative. “There were times that Hiryuu embraced the dragon warriors when they were gravely injured. He called Gu-en and Shu-ten back from the grave more than once this way, right on the battlefield a few times! Zeno, of course, never needed it. And Abi... Hiryuu embraced Abi more than any of us.”

“Then I could save Kija!” Yona said. “Right? If—if I... embrace him?”

Zeno hummed again. This time he sounded doubtful. “Most likely. But the miss is young, and this one is sure that Hakuryuu would not want you to do anything you are not ready for. Even to save his life. And,” he said gently but firmly, as Yona began to protest, “it will not work if you do not want it, too, miss. Your blood must call to his and make your connection stronger; that's how this one understands the healing happened, though I never experienced that part of it.”

Yona was quiet for a time, though the atmosphere was so heavy it was making Kija's skin prickle. What was Zeno going on about? Kija thought there was no way Yona would not want to hug him; she had hugged him many times before! Of course, though, Zeno was right—he would never presume to make her do so if she did not want to. If he had more energy he'd be admonishing Zeno for making Yona uncomfortable. 

He was about to rouse himself when Yona spoke again. 

“I want to,” she whispered, like a confession. “How... do we just... does it have to be...?”

“Any way you want to do it will work, miss! As long as Hiryuu and Hakuryuu both experience a climax it'll make the dragon blood all rush around and heal him faster.” 

Kija felt his heart flutter in his chest, beating against his ribs like a bird trapped in a cage. Wait—climax? They were talking about _that_ kind of embrace? Suddenly Yona's flusterment and Zeno's cautions made sense. And... she wanted to do that... with _him_? Kija was glad they thought he was asleep still; his mind was reeling. He squeezed his eyes shut and pretended harder that he wasn't awake and hadn't heard a thing. His breathing had quickened, and his face was flushed—hopefully, it would just look like he was feverish from his wounds. They ached terribly still, but the thought of Yona healing him with—with her _embrace_ —was enough to take his mind from the pain. He'd only ever _dreamed_ of Yona having him so...

A tiny, needy moan escaped Kija without his meaning it to. “ _Please_.”

“Oh! Kija... ah, did we wake you? Are you all right? Do you need anything?” Yona asked, clearly flustered and embarrassed. _Did you hear?_ was her implied question.

Kija let his eyes flutter open. He parted his lips, unsure what to say, only sure that he needed to reassure her. Yona was sitting beside his bedroll, looking down on him with concern, embarrassment, and, he thought, hope. It lifted his heart to see and made him lightheaded at the same time.

He licked his lips. Kija was afraid of making a fool of himself, and so tried to choose his words carefully. “All I need is you, Princess. If—if you wish to heal me, I will gladly put myself in your hands.”

“Well! Zeno will leave Hakuryuu's care to the miss now,” Zeno said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “and will keep watch outside. Good night!”

Yona sounded distracted when she spoke, but her relief was also evident. “Thank you, Zeno...”

With that, he ducked out of the tent flap, leaving Kija and Yona alone together.

 

“How much did you hear?” Yona asked when Zeno had gone. She picked at the end of her sleeve, looking anywhere but at Kija.

Now it was Kija's turn to look away. Studiously examining the clean white bedding he was laid out on, Kija found enough courage to answer, “Ah... all the relevant information, I believe. That the King has the power to heal us dragons with an embrace of—of a sexual nature.”

 _And that you would do so for me,_ Kija did not say. Yona would know he had heard that as well; she had heard his involuntary reaction to the knowledge.

“And you would want to do that... with me? Or! I mean! To heal you, of course, you would allow me to... embrace you?” Yona asked, still fussing with the soft cotton of her dress. Her cheeks were burning bright red, but there was a curiosity and a hunger in her eyes that made Kija's insides flip over.

Kija reached out with his uninjured dragon hand to gently take and still one of Yona's. She looked at him then, and his heart swelled. He smiled, hoping the depth of his sincerity was coming through. “Absolutely. Princess, from the moment I met you, I have been yours. That--” he swallowed hard, anxious to finally speak this confession aloud. “That includes all of me, heart, soul... and body.”

Yona clasped Kija's dragon hand in both of hers, stroking his lightly scaled fingers. With a tiny, hesitant smile, she raised it and brought it to her lips, kissing the tips of each of his claws. The touch of her lips was soft and chaste, but it still drew a shiver down Kija's spine.

“Then, let me...” Yona said, shyly. She rose onto her knees and scooted closer, until she was close enough to reach out and touch him, then she gently pulled the covers away from him, exposing his bandaged back. 

“Please,” Kija whimpered. He wanted this, wanted Yona so badly. And though he was badly injured, he wanted nothing more than Yona's hands on him.

“Just relax and stay where you are for now, Kija,” Yona said softly. “I don't want you to get hurt any more than you already are, so let me do all the work for now.”

Kija nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He could not see Yona now, as she moved out of his field of vision, lying on his stomach as he was, but he felt it when she settled herself to sit on his thighs. Her weight was delicious, and more delicious still was the way she began to trail her hands over his exposed back. Gently, slowly, she traced the scars and the skin around them with the tips of her fingers. It tickled, and felt so nice. 

“You're so beautiful.” This was murmured just above the uppermost scar on Kija's back, and he could feel Yona's warm breath on his skin. He trembled as she kissed his scars, tracing the jagged lines of them with the soft, damp heat of her mouth.

“Yona!” Kija gasped, his fingers curling to grasp the sheets beneath him. His dragon claws ripped into the material, tearing holes in his only bedding. In that moment, Kija didn't care. Yona was touching him, _kissing_ him, and he could already feel his blood beginning to flow faster in his veins.

“Shhh,” Yona shushed him, petting his hair and very carefully running her hands soothingly over his back, even over the bandaged wounds. His shoulder and his side throbbed with sharp, radiating pain, but a desperate need was awakening in him too. 

He didn't want Yona to stop.

She hesitated as she exposed his lower back, hands stilling as she reached the hem of his pants. Kija shifted himself enough to get his dragon hand down to the ties of his pants, grimacing with the pain of moving as he roughly pulled them loose. “You... you don't have to worry about my modesty, Yona. Not now. I want you to see all of me. So, please, keep going...”

“All right,” Yona said. But instead of continuing where she'd left off, she took hold of his wrists in her hands and gently but firmly brought them over his head and rested them there. “I thought I told you to stay where you were, though, Kija.”

Kija let out a soft moan. The strength in Yona's grip was admirable; he could feel the power she'd developed through steady and determined training with her bow. It was exhilarating. If Yona wanted him to stay where she put him, he would not move. 

He would do as he was told, gladly, ecstatically. “Yes, master.”

Yona stilled again, resting her weight against his thighs. “I'm no one's master,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I just don't want you to hurt yourself any more than you already are.”

“Of... of course,” Kija said. His conviction only grew, though, knowing Yona, Hiryuu, his King truly cared for him and his well-being. He felt his blood calling to her, as it had when he first met her, flowing hot and feverish through him, lighting every nerve and _pulling_ at his arm. He would keep it firmly planted above his head, until she gave the word to let him move. Kija was Yona's to command, whether she chose to acknowledge it or not.

“All right. I'm... I'm going to make you feel good now, okay? So just tell me if anything I do doesn't help or isn't right.” Yona was moving again, hesitantly hooking her slender fingers beneath the loose waistband of his pants. “Kija? I've, ah, never done anything like this before, so I might... might need some guidance.”

“Anything you ask, Princess,” Kija said breathlessly. He was already hard, his arousal pressed into the bedding beneath him. “It... might be easier if I were lying on my back.”

“That won't hurt more?” Yona sounded dubious, and her fingers hand stopped moving again.

Kija huffed out a strained burst of laughter. “I don't think that's possible. Besides, you're already making me feel better just by touching me. More of that would be... so good.”

“Okay. Turn over, then.”

Yona's words were as good as a command to Kija. He clenched his teeth and rolled stiffly onto his back, and as he shifted, Yona deftly pulled his pants down and off. Kija could not help that a hot flush rose to his face upon meeting Yona's eyes, knowing he was fully exposed to her now, naked and needy. In that moment he was afraid she would change her mind.

The warm smile that rose to Yona's lips helped dispel some of Kija's nerves. Her words obliterated them completely. “Oh, my Kija, you are so gorgeous,” Yona whispered, her eyes traveling shyly but hungrily over him, lingering on his erection.

Kija looked up at her adoringly, imploringly.

She leaned in, one hand splayed across his chest to steady her, the other sinking into his hair, and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. It was all Kija could do not to move his dragon hand to hold her, but he kept it locked above his head where she had put both his hands. Instead, he opened his mouth to her, letting her tongue slowly explore and caress his lips, his teeth, his own tongue. She tasted slightly of mint, from the tea she liked to drink before bed, and Kija eagerly drank her in, deepening the kiss. It was sweet, and fresh, and very much _her_.

When they broke apart, Yona was panting softly, warm puffs of air ghosting over Kija's lips. Then she leaned back. Kija bit his own lower lip and stifled a whimper and the urge to follow her as she pulled away. But his heart skipped in his chest as he realized what she was doing next—her hands had moved to the ties of her own nightgown, and he watched as she opened it and let it slide off her shoulders, until it fell away completely. 

She blushed and would not meet his eyes, but murmured, “It's only fair.”

“ _You_ are so fair,” Kija said in an awed rush. He was staring and could not make himself tear his eyes away.

Slowly, Yona uncrossed her arms from over her chest, exposing the most perfect small breasts he had ever seen in his life (and, all right, the only breasts he had ever seen, but he was absolutely certain they would be the most perfect regardless).

Smiling, Yona stood and slipped her panties off too, leaving each of them bare and trembling.

“So beautiful, Yona,” Kija whispered.

She kneeled beside him again, and leaned in to kiss him some more, her passion growing now as Kija moaned and shook beneath her. Growing bolder, Yona moved lower to kiss and suck at Kija's neck, at the sharp jut of his collar bone, and then lower still until she had taken one of Kija's nipples into her hot mouth. It made him jerk up, jostling his injuries and tearing a ragged groan from his throat.

“Sorry! I'm sorry, Kija; are you all right?” Yona asked, breathless and worried.

“Fine. Yona, don't stop, please. I can feel it...” Kija said, voice tight with pain and desire. And he _could_ feel it, his blood rushing, making his wounds ache and tingle. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that maybe she was getting aroused as well, and it was making the pain feel better than it had any right to.

“It's working? If I do this?” Yona looked up at Kija, her eyes dark and shining with want, and darted her tongue out to lick his nipple again.

Kija shuddered, his mouth falling open. “ _Yes._ ” Oh, gods, it felt so incredible! Like sparks of bright pleasure shooting through his nerves, centered on that one tiny peak of flesh. Encouraged, Yona did it again, then closed her teeth around his nipple and tugged it just gently, then sucked it into her mouth again. Kija moaned louder, his fingers clenching on nothing above his head.

Yona pulled off with an audibly wet popping sound, then turned her attention to Kija's straining erection. He was throbbing already, his hardened shaft pulsing against his lower belly. Light as a feather, Yona's fingers ghosted over the tense muscles of his abdomen, careful not to press to hard on the bandaged wound in his side.

Then, boldly, she took hold of Kija's shaft, feeling the heavy heat of it in her hand, exploring it with her fingers.

“Oh, Yona, _please_ ,” Kija groaned, watching her intently as she curiously examined the most sensitive and needy part of him.

“It's so soft on the outside,” she whispered in awe, “but hard... and so hot...”

Kija's cock twitched at the attention and a bead of pre-seed dripped out. Yona ran her fingers through it experimentally, and Kija could not stop his hips from bucking up against her.

“Oh!” She yelped in surprise. Then she glanced at Kija's face, fascination gleaming in her eyes. “You like that, Kija?”

“Yes, yes, please—it feels good if you squeeze it tighter, and,” he felt his face burning and could not meet Yona's eyes, “ah, stroke it.”

“Like this?” Yona asked, closing her hand more tightly around the head of Kija's cock and then moving it down slowly, drawing the soft hood back with her fingers and stroking all the way down his shaft until reaching the root and his balls.

Kija writhed on the bedroll beneath Yona, his back arching. _Oh heavenly gods above, he'd never felt anything more intense in his life,_ and his wounds were tingling and prickling and felt hot as firebrands. “Yes,” he managed to gasp. “More!”

That was all the encouragement Yona needed. Her hand, slick with his own pre-seed, slid easily as she stroked his cock, building a steady rhythm. The calluses on her hands only made the friction sweeter. Kija could feel his blood pulling toward her from his arm, urging him to hold her as she held him, but he resisted as best he could. He would touch her when she allowed it. She would... she had to, right? Zeno had said she had to reach her peak too, or the healing wouldn't work properly. And, oh, Kija _wanted_ to touch Yona and make her feel as good as she was making him feel. It was only right. Right and good and oh, _gods_ , so arousing.

Even just the thought of pleasing Yona, as he dazedly watched her hand move over him, drawing him ever closer to climax, had him near the edge.

“I—Yona, I'm going to--!” Kija cried, heat pooling in his belly and pulsing in his injuries and drawing pinpricks of hot tears to his eyes. “Please, let me, may I, ah--!”

“Yes, Kija, I want you to,” Yona said, earnestly and urgently as she pumped her hand over his cock without pause.

Kija's entire body pulled taut as a bowstring as his climax overtook him, great bursts of seed spilling forth over his belly. A wordless cry left his throat raw, and Yona stroked him through it all, never letting him go as he shook and shuddered in her strong and capable hands.

When it was over, he was left breathless and panting, covered in sweat, and his whole body trembling. His blood was boiling and he felt lightheaded, but the pain was gone.

“Kija?” Yona asked, soft and wondering. “You're crying. Was that... good?”

He opened his eyes and gave her a wavery smile. “Perfect.”

She smiled back and it was like the sun peeking over the first hilltop at dawn, bright and warm. “And did it help?”

“I don't hurt anymore,” he said, “but I think... I'm still bleeding.”

“Oh! You are.” Yona gently touched the bandage on his side, the one she could see most clearly from where she sat, her fingers coming back damp with blood.

“Well, we're only half done,” Kija pointed out hopefully. He was regaining his breath, if not his equilibrium, and his blood still called to Yona's.

Yona looked at him doubtfully. She rose and retrieved a clean, damp cloth, wiping her hands off and then and cleaning up his seed from his belly. “I'm not sure how to do this when you're still hurt...”

Kija licked his lips. He had an idea. It was something Jae-ha had told him a man might do for a woman, something that would bring her a beautiful amount of pleasure. While he was half sure Jae-ha shared stories of his previous exploits simpy to discomfit him, he had to admit it was sometimes very enlightening.

And he'd had dreams. Dreams of servicing the Princess, dreams he'd never admit to aloud, that he blushed to even think about... it was difficult to get the words out even now, but Yona deserved to know what he meant to do for her. “You could, ah... sit. Um. On—on my face. And I could use my tongue to please you, Princess. I would like that. A lot.”

Somehow suggesting such was far more embarrassing than having the Princess bring him to completion and watch him orgasm beneath her. Kija could not meet her gaze, looking instead at her brilliant red hair, or the soft curve of her shoulder, or the sweetly beautiful swell of her breasts.

Yona seemed to consider the idea a moment, then she rose and stood over his head. Slowly, she lowered herself until she was hovering just above his face. Kija's head swam. This was really happening. He could die happily now, if he hadn't dedicated his very life to Yona.

“Like this?” Yona asked, her voice soft and anxious. “I... I don't want to smother you, though, Kija. Please... hold me up?”

“Of course! Anything, _anything_ you want,” Kija said, his entire being alight with anticipation and adoration. Now he could finally move his dragon arm and touch his master. He reached up and let his hand grow until he could seat Yona in the palm of his hand. With his thumb and pinky, he spread her legs and held her thighs apart, and supported the soft curve of her rear and her sweet back with his remaining three fingers. It was easy to hold her exactly where he needed her, right in front of his face, her weight held in his hand so that he could breathe or pull back if he needed to. 

“It's all right,” Kija whispered, “I've got you, Yona.”

Yona relaxed in Kija's hand, though a brilliant blush suffused her cheeks, almost the same color as her hair. “I trust you, Kija. Please... go ahead.”

Kija took a deep, appreciative breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Yona's arousal. Though he had done this only in dreams, Jae-ha's vivid descriptions had given him an idea of what to do to make her feel good. He licked at her soft folds, humming appreciatively at the taste. Musky. Tangy. Good. 

Yona gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes shut tight. That seemed like a good sign. Kija hoped it was a good sign... he wanted so desperately to make Yona feel good.

Kija pressed his face in deeper, letting his tongue explore her soft petals, parting them as he licked a long, slow stripe up through them until he got to a tiny bud at the very top. When his tongue touched that, Yona _writhed_ and whimpered.

Oh. That was more of a reaction than he was expecting, so Kija flicked his tongue against that little bud again, then sucked on it like Yona had done to his nipple.

This time Yona could not muffle her cries, and she had wrapped an arm around his index finger and was clinging to it almost hard enough to hurt.

The blood was rushing through his hand again, singing through his body, heating his flesh until he was burning. Like an echo of what Yona was feeling, perhaps? Kija was not sure, but it felt good, and he wanted to keep on making Yona squirm and moan.

He licked faster, at the little bud, but also at the softly swollen petals, until he found the source of the tangy juices he was tasting. Kija dipped his tongue inside and pressed his face hard against Yona, burying his nose against her and thrusting his tongue as deeply as he could into her. Yona's thighs were trembling, and Kija could not get enough.

“Oh! Kija! I—I never—oh, don't stop!” Yona gasped.

Kija gave all he had to pleasure his master, not stopping as commanded, licking and sucking and drinking in her juices as though he wanted nothing more. And he truly didn't; this was more than he had ever hoped for, to have his King spread out before him, to wring such cries from her as she shook for him. He turned his focus once more on the hard bud of flesh at the top of her folds, kissing it and then closing his mouth around it to suck on it again, and Yona keened.

Suddenly, her thighs clenched around his head and held him in place, and Yona was shaking, spasming around Kija's face and lips and tongue, spilling a flood of wetness onto him. Kija moaned, dizzy and breathless and on _fire_ as he drew Yona's orgasm out of her. He continued to lap at her through the aftershocks, nuzzling her soft folds and tender inner thighs. She was glorious, and he felt a deep sense of fulfillment at having brought her to her peak.

“That—wow—Kija—I... thank you. That was amazing. You're amazing,” Yona said, pressing urgent kisses to his fingers and claws, whatever she could reach.

Exhausted and supremely satisfied, Kija let Yona down and settled her against his uninjured side, then wiped his mouth clean with his hand. He pressed tender kisses to the top of Yona's head as she nestled against him, holding her close as she tremblingly caught her breath.

Now a deep tingling sensation was spreading through Kija's body, the fire dulled and dampened into a soft, warm glow. Everything felt fuzzy and good. Nothing hurt.

“I think it worked,” Kija said, awe tinging his voice. He didn't want to disturb Yona, but... he had to know. So he flexed his injured shoulder, and prodded his injured side, and... nothing. No pain. “Yona, Princess, how can I ever thank you enough? You brought me back from the brink of death, with your loving embrace!”

Yona smiled and kissed at Kija's chest, and hugged him tightly. “You don't need to thank me, silly,” she said. “I only did what I wanted to do. I wanted to heal you... I wanted _you_. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.”

“If I was injured? You're so kind, Yona.” Kija buried his face in her hair and breathed her in, taking as many liberties as he could while he had the chance.

She was quiet for a moment. Then, shyly, she said, “Injured... or not. What if I wanted to do this again without the fear of losing you, Kija?”

Kija froze, his fingers curled in Yona's hair. Here he had thought this was to be a one-time ocurrence, necessitated by life-threatening injury. And perhaps it had started that way. But now... hope swelled his heart so much he thought it might burst. “Anything you want, Yona. I'm yours. Forever and always.”

“Good. I want you with me always.” The words were a quiet and tenderly spoken. With that, Yona relaxed against Kija and drew the covers back over them both. Safe. Warm. Whole.

He would serve her until the day he died. And, thanks to her, that would likely not happen for a very long time.


End file.
